


The Full Moon is My Favorite (let me share it with you)

by OhNoMyBreadsticks



Series: Don't Let It In [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Body Horror, Death, Explanations in the Notes for Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, M/M, Monsters, Pre-Relationship, Psychological Horror, Slow Build, Uncanny Valley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: The seasons change as they always have, and each one brings its own challenges to Allen's life.Some things never change though, for better or for worse.
Relationships: Captain Allen/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60
Series: Don't Let It In [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010376
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	The Full Moon is My Favorite (let me share it with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Bet you didn't expect to see a part two of this fuckin AU!! Neither did I to be honest XD But the comments on the last part were so incredibly inspiring that I took the ideas there and ran with them! So shoutout to my commenters and Coreveille in particular for giving me some stellar inspiration!
> 
> In a break from my usual method I haven't over-tagged this fic because it is meant to be suspenseful! But if you (like me) would like to be safe rather than sorry in terms of content warnings, hop to the notes at the bottom for some spoilers :) I want to make sure everyone is safe and comfy in my little fic corner, so if you have any suggestions for future tagging or warnings hit me up!
> 
> Either way, please enjoy some more vaguely prairie horror gothic!

It was a warm day for autumn, one of those years when summer lingered just a little bit longer as a treat before the harsh chill set in permanently. Allen wasn’t one to complain, it gave him more time to bring in the last of his harvest and prep the garden for the coming snow. Another week or so of days where he wouldn’t have to bundle up just to set foot outside of his cabin. It was always awkward, to have to wrap up head to toe just so he could come out and sweat whenever he had to clear the roof of snow.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of thoughts of snow when the warm breeze was still tickling at his skin, Allen leaned on his shovel and considered taking a brief rest. Clearly, he needed something to focus his mind back on the present, and he knew just the thing to do it. In the storeroom, front and center, were two buckets of fresh apples. They had cost him a pretty penny, but he knew they’d can well so it was worth it. The taste of fall sweetness on the cold dark nights of winter would be well worth however much he had paid his neighbor.

Besides, Allen thought idly as he bit into an apple and felt the juice trickle onto his fingertips and down his wrist, the apple harvest this year had been spectacular. Firm red skin outside, pure white flesh all the way through on the inside. Idly, he twirled the tiny brown stem of the apple between his fingers, considering how satisfying it was to be able to finish the whole apple without much bother. Perfect fruit, really. Licking the juice from his skin, Allen headed back out into the field, head filled now with thoughts of all the applesauce he’d be enjoying later in the year.

* * *

Winter meant long nights and even longer stretches of time trapped in the cabin with no hope of leaving. Well, even if he hadn’t been barricaded in by the snow, Allen would have had no desire to venture out into the bitter chill. The sound of the wind howling at the window was enough to have him more than grateful for the chair he was sitting in so close to the fire, with a solid blanket across his lap. The smell of well seasoned stew was still lingering in the air from dinner, adding to the comforting atmosphere permeating the room. 

Allen had his mending in hand tonight, because he’d never been one for much reading, and there wasn’t much else to do aside from reading or mending. He’d seriously considered taking up stitching or embroidery of some kind once, but had put that out of his mind years ago. Too frivolous - the cost of the fancy colored thread could never be outweighed by any fleeting joy a useless piece of stitching might bring. But he couldn’t deny the fact that sitting and stitching gave him a sense of peace and calm that was almost inexplicable. Just the simple pleasure of using his own two hands to fix something so small and delicate was even better than the satisfaction of looking out over the newly planted crops each spring.

The only hardship that stitching brought, really, was having to squint in the dim light provided by the fire and his lantern. It wasn’t easy on the eyes, and if he dropped something then it was a pain in the ass to pick it up. And inevitably he was going to drop something - he just wasn’t particularly nimble despite having been at this task for years now. So when Allen inevitably dropped his needle, he cursed under his breath, knowing this was either going to be the end of his mending session, or a long ten minutes as he searched for the damn thing in the half dark. Bending down, he gave it a good attempt before giving up, simply not willing to rub his hands across the floor to find it by feel and prick himself horribly. He’d just find it in the morning, when daylight gave him the advantage.

Sitting up, Allen looked over at the table where his lantern was sitting, and found his needle exactly where he’d placed it, with the five other needles lined up neatly in a row. He wasn’t usually this absent minded, and shook his head in fond exasperation at himself as he picked the needle up and went back to work. The mending lasted him well into the night, and when he finally set it aside to go to bed he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The full moon’s light, amplified by the drifts of pure white snow outside, made the needles spilling out of his bedside drawer shimmer like diamonds.

* * *

Spring brought with it drenching rain, the kind that poured down in sheets that drifted across the prairie like they had a mind of their own. Out here on the plains there was a real danger of flash floods, but luckily Allen hadn’t been forced onto higher ground just yet. The worst part was that it was hard to even complain about the rain too much. Even if it came down in an absolutely biblical torrent, if there was no rain then the following drought would be devastating beyond belief. So Allen had to grin and bear the rain, trudging out into it only whenever it became absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, the fact that his shed door had blown open and was looking about ready to fly away in the gale was reason enough to force him outside. Clutching his jacket close, Allen held one hand up ahead of him to fend off the water droplets trying to blind him, and crossed the yard as quickly as possible. Once there, it was all he could do to take some rope and crudely lash the door shut. The lock was completely gone, handle and all, so it was really a challenge to get the damn thing secured.

By the time Allen got back into the cabin he was exhausted and soaked through. Stripping out of his wet clothes was imperative if he wanted to avoid catching cold from the chill, and it wasn’t like anyone in the miles of empty prairie around his cabin was going to notice him peeling the damn things off. Cursing under his breath, he left his soaking boots by the door and hung the clothes over a chair that he dragged over next to the fire. It was a rush to grab a cloth and dry himself off, shivering as he joined said chair in standing as close to the fire as possible. Shaking the last few droplets of water loose from his hair, Allen stepped back to the door to rescue his boots from the small lake they were probably creating there.

Picking up his bone dry boots, Allen paused for a moment to stare at the worn leather. Something was strange here. Shaking his head, he dismissed the concern as just being a trick of the light. After all, he had done a great job of cleaning them last time he’d worn them, so maybe it was just that he wasn’t used to seeing them free of mud and grime. Regardless, they were stored away in their proper place, and Allen rolled up his sleeves to get started on lunch. He’d worked up an appetite fixing the shed, after all, and a rainy day like this deserved a warm meal regardless of the time.

* * *

It was lucky, Allen considered, that he wasn’t a superstitious man. The weather lately had been almost too good to be true, and someone with more belief in the wheel of karma might have expected some great tragedy on the horizon. Personally, he didn’t have time to stand around and manufacture potential future problems when there was plenty of work to do on his little plot of land. Crops needed watering, corn needed tending, traps needed watching. Idleness was not one of his flaws, that much could be said with incredible certainty. 

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Allen took a moment to pause and quietly appreciate the wind that was making this hot summer day bearable. It might cause a world of problems when it was carrying wind or rain, or twisting into enormous towers, but during the summer the wind was the only reprieve he got from the heat of the sun. It was a terribly sunny day too, chasing away the shadows of all but the most sturdy of buildings. Allen wouldn’t have been surprised to look back and see his own shadow withering away.

Instead, he looked up, shielding his eyes to appreciate the brilliant blue of the prairie sky. The clouds, high up in their lofty sphere, hung motionless and perfect, not a single one deigning to slide across the face of the sun. Allen looked back down at his shovel thoughtfully. Perhaps the clouds had taken their cue from the moon, he mused, which had been full and unchanging for the last few weeks at least. Strange indeed, but no matter really. He’d never been in charge of the moon’s schedule, it wasn’t like he could complain about an inconsistency now. 

Nothing for it but to keep working at what he knew.

* * *

_ He will have to wake up eventually _ , Death said sternly, glancing sideways at the figure next to him. How he managed without any real eyes to his name was not a question with any answers. 

“Not necessarily,” the Thing replied petulantly, “He’s happy here. I’ve made it just the way he likes it.”

When Death continued to look at it, the Thing growled and shifted, two arms emerging from the shadows simply for the purpose of crossing. 

_ Haven’t done a very good job of it. _

“Name one thing I’ve done wrong!”

_ The boots. They were supposed to be wet.  _ Death explained, as if he were explaining something to a being of very little intelligence. Clearly, he thought that was the case.  _ And I would have hoped even you knew how the moon worked. _

“I like the full moon the best,” the Thing retorted. There was a pause then, a silence that stretched like the emptiness of a tomb gone unvisited. 

“...and I thought boots were supposed to dry that fast.”

Death laughed, because of course he did, the sound kindly despite having no right to be. He turned then, to face the Thing more fully, watching it carefully. It was vaguely human shaped now, although that wasn’t all that unusual. Human shapes were easy to mimic, given the amount of them around nowadays.

_ You haven’t been talking to your brother about this scheme of yours, have you? _

The stern tone was back, and the Thing wobbled in place, a vague mouth appearing in order to shoot him what was clearly supposed to be an innocent smile. The effect was rather ruined by the fangs, and the fact that Death knew innocence was a lie created by humanity.

“Which brother?”

_ You know exactly which one I mean. _

The silence that stretched between them lasted just as long as it needed to before it died in the sigh escaping the Thing’s newly formed lips. 

“No. This human doesn’t even have any dead children to barter with, so there’s really no point in trying  _ that _ strategy.” It seemed genuinely annoyed at that, the shadows pooling at its feet writhing and burrowing into the ground as if in a mockery of claws flexing in anger. 

Death nodded, turning away again. 

_ Then you have accepted that this cannot last. As all lives eventually are, his must be forfeited unto me. _

He didn’t see the grin that split the Thing’s face clean in half, but he heard the click of teeth as it replied, 

“Oh, I said there was no use trying  _ that _ strategy, not that I didn’t have another one lined up.” __

**Author's Note:**

> **spoilery cw: Allen is halfway between dead and alive, trapped in a dream world created by the Thing. There is also a brief one sentence mention of off-screen canon Cole death, and implied Hank death as well**
> 
> And there we have it folks!! I had a lot of fun with this fic, especially the last little section which ended up being a lot goofier than I expected lmao. I hope you enjoyed it, I have no idea if there will be more because my brain has gotta figure out what on earth to do with the corner I've backed myself into XD
> 
> Any kudos or comments at any time are loved and cherished <3 I'm also available on [tumblr](https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/) if you ever feel like chatting or reading some of my lil drabbles, I’d love to see you there C:


End file.
